When you think of roller coasters, do you think of the huge amusement park south of the Illinois border? Maybe you don’t know that we have 10 permanent-standing, cranium rattling, acid-reflux producing roller coasters here in Wisconsin.

Most are wooden coasters, many of them steeped in history, and all are within a couple hours' drive from Milwaukee.

My son and I toured all in a weekend. Evan, 17, loves everything about roller coasters; reading about them, watching them on YouTube and throwing his arms in the air trying them out.

I grew up on American Eagle and The Demon, but I now prefer my internal organs to stay in the places that God intended. I’m the mom at the park holding drawstring backpacks and souvenir soda cups, reading my Kindle.

Wishing I had brought a bottle of Tums for the stomach and cough drops for the screaming, here they are, the 10 roller coasters of Wisconsin.

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Wisconsin has 10 roller coasters; we took a ride on the King's favorite, Zippin Pippin.
Lori Nickel, Milwaukee Journal Sentinel

BAY BEACH, GREEN BAY

Zippin Pippin

Just 10 minutes away from Lambeau Field is historic and famous Bay Beach Amusement Park. Established in 126 years ago, this park is still free and open to the public and the price of the midway rides is right out of the Vince Lombardi era. The trip is worthwhile for the nostalgia and the views of the lake alone.

But ever since the arrival of the Zippin Pippin in 2011 the park has increased its attendance by 50%.

The original coaster was built in 1923 and was the favorite of The King. Elvis Presley loved this wooden roller coaster known for its classical layout. He rented out Libertyland – the coaster’s original home in Memphis – from 1 a.m. until 7 a.m. on Aug. 8, 1977, for family and friends. Wearing gold chains around his blue jumpsuit with black leather, Presley rode Zippin Pippin repeatedly for about 2 hours. It was his last public appearance; Presley died on Aug. 16.

The coaster sat unused from 2005-’09 until it was rescued by private owners and then, eventually the City of Green Bay. The structure was no longer up to code, so Bay Beach had a replica of the Zippin Pippin made through The Gravity Group to preserve the coaster’s history.

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Wisconsin is squeaky cheese curds, fishing spots, Packers fans and time spent by the lake. It’s also the Milwaukee entrepreneur, the Hmong artisan and the dairy farmer. Stories in our Be Wisconsin series look at deeply rooted tradition and at the surprising ways the state culture is changing.

Open your eyes even if you’re scared and take in the view of the park and Green Bay’s waters from the top of Zippin Pippin. It’s worth it before the butterflies-in-the-gut 63-foot drop. You even get a little “air time” – that’s when your butt comes out of your seat – on the second to last hill.

Evan bought a Zippin Pippin sticker from the gift shop for $2; it was double the price of the $1 ticket to ride the coaster. We couldn’t get over the affordable prices at Bay Beach, but we appreciated the upgrades that are so evident in recent years. This coaster is a gem.

“I can’t prove this, but they say one night Elvis rented it out … and he actually got out of the coaster while it was on top,” said Jason Arnoldi, the manager in his 23rd summer at Bay Beach. “And when the coaster came back, Elvis was no longer in the car, so it kind of freaked out operators, obviously.”

Mount Olympus started as a restaurant, then added Go-Karts to draw in more customers and has since expanded to roller coasters and a waterpark. Online reviews said the coasters were rough rides. How rough could they be?

Zeus

Zeus is a typical coaster layout – 85-foot drop, out and back – and way too rough for me. We were thrashing about. Evan called it a paint-shaker. I called it a herniated disc-maker. “Imagine an earthquake. Or a car crash,” he said.

Cyclops

Cyclops was almost exactly as rough as Zeus but it has a more interesting layout. The second drop that curved by the pedestrian path was unique. Having another drop is creative; most coasters have just the one big drop. This had two. Evan now has almost a love-hate thing with these two roller coasters. I am sick to my stomach.

On the 140-foot drop down, you go 60 miles an hour underground, into an 800-foot tunnel that’s under the parking lot. And then you travel upside down on an inversion twist. But get this – there are no shoulder restraints – just a lap bar and a seat belt.

I was holding up the walls of the nearest bathroom while Evan did Hades 360 a couple times. He said the drop to tunnel to inversion and back into tunnel sequence made this coaster really special, and he thought the roughness of the ride (it’s definitely smoother in the front cars of the train) was less than Zeus and Cyclops. He said it was tolerable, which makes sense because it’s a newer coaster, built in 2005.

“The tunnel was pitch black, so I didn’t have any idea what was coming and couldn’t brace myself,” said Evan.

Shortest in height of all the coasters, Pegasus has big hills and little hills and is also a little rough. “Like a jackhammer.” I watched kids get off and complain of nausea. But this is what we all came here for, right?

“Pegasus was like a big kiddie coaster, all the hills were just hills, there’s no air time on them,” said Evan. “You just went up and down. And at the end there was a horrible curve right into the brake run that probably broke some bone in my body.”

One note here: We were surprised to see numerous people shooting video on their phones while riding on these coasters (all but Hades 360). I saw at least six.

Before we came to the Dells, we contacted Mt. Olympus, but the park did not grant us advanced permission to video the rides (the other parks did, with conditions), citing safety concerns. When we got to Mt. Olympus and saw so many coaster riders take off with their phones out, we decided to film because Evan’s GoPro has a secure wrist strap and a second, safety strap. While we were sure our camera wouldn’t slip off and hit or hurt anyone, we didn’t feel the same way about so many other people holding their phones.

Little Titans

This adorable little kiddie coaster has a height limit of 56 inches – there’s a helix, and tall people may come too close to hitting their head – so we didn’t ride Little Titans, but it looked cute.

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Little Amerricka has preserved some really old roller coasters that are still in use today.
Lori Nickel, Milwaukee Journal Sentinel

LITTLE AMERRICKA, MARSHALL

This feels like the kind of amusement park my 72-year-old dad would remember from his childhood. Situated in the middle of farmland a couple miles off I-94 heading to Madison, we pulled up and parked on the grass to marvel what felt like a step back in to yesteryear. The park’s Tilt-A-Whirl – serial number 614 – is the oldest in the world, from 1939; and the monorail is one of just two ever made, and the only one left running.

The coasters are preserved so well that Little Amerricka feels like a living, moving museum. Old coaster cars that are found and sometimes restored go for a lot of money right now in the antique market, but Little Amerricka saves them and preserves the whole ride.

This was the vision of owner Lee Merrick when it opened in 1991 (and how the park got its name, Little A-Merrick-A). Seven years after his passing, that philosophy has been continued by general manager Darrell Klompmaker.

“There’s a lot of people that go, ‘When I was a kid, I rode on that,’” said Klompmaker. “There’s a lot of history with these coasters, and we try to keep the nostalgia alive.”

Strangest ride I’ve ever done. Toboggan has a single car wrapped in a cage that opens from the rooftop. After climbing in, I instantly felt claustrophobic because the ride operator closed the top over me and the padded rooftop pushed down on my head. So it’s chair, cage, car, rooftop pushing down on the head. Please check out the pictures and the video. I don’t have the words.

It gets weirder. The car escalates up and in to a tube (picture a tall, thin silo on the farm) while tilted back. Like an astronaut being rocketed in to space. That means while I am in the seated position, I am now on my back of the caged car with the roof pushing down on my head. I am living my life like a cartoon character.

The car pops out of the top of the silo and then circles the drain, descending down five-and-a-half corkscrew turns before it plummets to a rough drop. I was almost 5-foot-8 before the ride. I’m now 5-6.

Little Amerricka’s special Tobaggan coaster is the first one ever made – the prototype is serial number 001 – and it was built in 1969. It’s never traveled as a road coaster. Its first home was in Chesterton, Ind. Klompmaker estimated there are only 5-15 left.

The rider inside this car of the roller coaster ride Toboggan is surrounded by a cage, and if tall enough, capped by a padded rooftop before entering the silo.(Photo: Lori Nickel)

The curved loading and unloading deck of the Meteor, a classic refurbished coaster from the 1950s.(Photo: Lori Nickel)

The Meteor

Herbert Schmeck of Philadelphia Toboggan Coasters, one of the oldest coaster manufacturers, designed The Meteor coaster (originally called the Little Dipper) that opened in Kiddietown in Harwood Heights, Ill. in 1953. In 1966 it was dismantled and moved to Hillcrest, Ill., where it operated until the park closed in 2007.

Klompmaker bought it an auction for $10,000 in 2003, moved it to Little Amerricka, and spent the next three years and $100,000 on reconstruction. He still likes to walk the rails himself, checking everything over in the morning. Some of the original white paint is visible on the wooden boards 65 years later.

It has a curved loading deck, which is rare – those are being phased out of most coasters – and “buzz bars,” which you almost never see anymore either. That means there is no restraint being pushed down on your lap, so there’s a chance – in theory – of air time. But as roller coasters go, this is neat and sweet and not at all scary.

The Mad Mouse coaster at Little Amerricka was built in 1963. This ascent is unique because there is no catwalk.(Photo: Lori Nickel)

Mad Mouse

Making its debut in 1963 in Chesterton, Ind., Mad Mouse's cars were outfitted with bumpers on them, because back in the day there used to be seven on the track and if they slammed in to one another, so be it. It was a different time, then. When we went, there were just two at a time on the track.

Mad Mouse looks totally innocent until you get up on the elevated track and realize that if that car flies off the track you are flying off with it plummeting to your certain disfigurement three stories below.

You really see the engineering at work. Roller coasters are defined, in part, by one big ascension, drop and then the rest of the ride powered by just momentum and gravity. Mad Mouse twists and turns on a naked track that weebles and wobbles, and it plays on our fear of heights, or the fear of flying off track and down to the ground.

Little Dipper

This kiddie coaster was in a guy’s backyard in Missouri, until the town said it wasn’t allowed. So Klompmaker bought the Little Dipper based only on photographs of the ride. Built in 1953, it’s been in Marshall since 1993. It still has the original old-fashioned spoke, flat iron wheels.

It was a thrilling weekend. My kid got his coaster fix and more coaster credits (the more coasters you ride, the more credibility you have) and I got to appreciate treasured parks in Wisconsin that have created happy memories for generations. We have family, season passes for Six Flags Great America in Gurnee, Ill., but the visits to these three Wisconsin parks were worthwhile.

Chelsey Lewis returns Aug. 12 with her next On the Road feature about Wisconsin travel.